As Marriots Way leaves the Norfolk village of Attlebridge on its remaining ten miles that culminate at the walls of Norwich, it passes through a pine plantation to one side and a chestnut woods to the other. It’s kick-up leaves time!
Marriots Way early on a misty morning: 22 October 2018
So I arrived home after Monday’s walk with thoughts of a hot coffee, a hot meal, and a warm bath … to utter darkness. Not a glimmer of light. What!
Yikes, my light lilac wall turns pink in the candlelight: 22nd October 2018
A phone call later—oh, it’s a power cut, and the power would be off at least through to midnight. How serendipitous! I used the power-cut to fulfill the #2018picoftheweek: After Dark
This week’s walk, ten miles along Marriots Way, yielded loads of the trooping toadstools. And these little beauties ….
A family of fungi raise their funnels through pine loppings : 22 Oct 2018
I was particularly taken with the colour-combo here, that delicate apricot amongst the fading green (almost blue) of the dying pine.
And then there was this. The one, the only one (lo, where have they all gone?) …
A fly agaric pushes its head through the compacted grit of the wayside bank: 22 October 2018
In previous years this stretch of Marriots Way has been totally speckled with these bright and poisonous hallucigenic red-caps. I put their scarcity down to the weather.
There is a smell that pervades the damp woods at this time of year. And those with keen noses are liable to stumble upon one of Nature’s naughty secrets.
One of the easiest fungi to recognise. The Stinkhorn: Photo 8 October 2018
Though it’s called a ‘stinkhorn’, I don’t find the smell at all offensive. For me, it’s redolent of the autumnal woodland.
Stinkhorn smothered in its stinky slime: Photo 8 October 2018
The stinkhorn uses the smell of its slime to attract flies which then, slimed-up, carry away its spores. This one thinks it’s Adam. But Adam had a fig leaf, not a flimsy fern.
Oops, embarrassing: Photo 8 October 2018
Easy to see with this flaccid specimen how spongelike the stinkhorn’s shaft. Well, if you’re going to mimic, you may as well mimic all the way.
Nature is nature; no intent to offend.
After the rain, the fungi appear. But that’s not the focus of this photo. It’s that myriad of tiny waterdrops.
The raindrops on the grass seem like miniature mimics of the mushroom: photo 24 September 2018
#2018picoftheweek: Liquid
As to the mushroom, I almost stood on it, so small and lost in the long grass.
By popular request, two photos from yesterday’s walk. And as you can see, yesterday the sky rained.
An inkcap, beginning to ‘ink’: photo 15th Oct 2018
Three mucky versions of the above: photo 15th October 2018
I make no excuse for posting another fungi photo. The contrasting colours of the clustered fungi and the flint-like flakes of the pine stump rushed at my eyes and grabbed me.
Fungi, pine and heather at Waveney Forest: Photo 8th October 2018
Waveney Forest rises above the extensive Haddiscoe-Fritton grazing marshes. Even so, an unexpected view of abandoned windmills (I can count three, plus the C20th replacement).
Abandoned mills on the Waveney; Photo 8th October 2018
Also unexpected was this inlet of silver birches, all lopped off, looking like upstanding pencils, with their inner red bark ghosting through.
Pencil-like birches: Photo 8th October 2018
And the unexpected star of the day …
Earth Stars: Photo 8th October 2018
The first time I’d seen an earthstar.
No, not the Sondheim musical that cleverly combines plots from fairy tales by Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault. And neither the book by John Yorke that explores ‘How Stories Work and Why We Tell Them’. Though I recommend both of those. No, I mean Tyrrels Wood.
A wooden bridge in Tyrrels Wood; Photo 10 Sept 2018
#2018picoftheweek: Wooden
Tyrrels Wood, two miles south of Long Stratton (a tiny town that straddles the old Roman road to London, now the A140) was first recorded in 1251. Today it belongs to the Woodland Trust and is open to all.
I visited the woods back in September. Too early for fungi, though I did find some. And too early for autumnal colours. If time permits I’ll visit again, perhaps in November.
Another month over. But am I another step nearer to e-publication? Yes. And no.
At last I can say that all comments are in from the beta readers and critiquers. I have read them, considered them, and made a list headed To Amend. The main amendment … no, best call that a rewrite … concerns the Uissids’ dreams. Dreams are notoriously difficult to handle. And when you have nine characters in different combinations dreaming, that is a recipe for confusion. I’ve lost count of the number of rewrites to this section. What I offered my readers was my best attempt to date. Generally, they were able to understand the dreams and, with Kerrid’s help, understand their symbolism. But there were comments that the dream and exposition passages wore on (and on). And yes, I was aware of it but didn’t yet know how to change them. For that I must thank Lauren, my critique partner. She’s a brilliant ideas person. I looked at her idea, at how I could incorporate it; would it work? The result won’t be quite how she’d thought it, but I do thank her tons for it.
But the amendment and rewrite to Asaric Axis must wait at least another month.
The revision of Asaric Skies is taking longer than anticipated. Too many distractions, I’ve been unable to devote much time to it. Still, I’m now about two-thirds the way through. My main concern here is to whittle away at the wordcount by the savage excision of unneeded material. Oh, my babies, I cry!
I hope to have the process complete in time for the next update. At which point I’ll again put out the call for beta-readers.
And while Book Three, Asaric Skies, goes through the beta-read process, I’ll return to Book Two, Asaric Axis, for what I hope will be the final amendments.
Meantime, I’d like to thank all those who have offered to read these books and to comment, and by those comments to support and encourage me. Their input is invaluable.
One of the #2018picoftheweek titles is Fall Colours. But do I display photos taken at the beginning of the season? Hawthorn and dogwood have been presenting their full colours since mid August. Or ought I to wait until late December to catch the last of the trees? Of course, if I’m not quick enough then it’ll be winter.
Or why not, I thought, ignore the trees and go for something … other? Something that, to me at least, shouts of the autumn?
Beefsteak fungus, found in a woods in Swardeston, near Norwich: Photo 24th September 2018
crispina kemp 